The Winter's Curse
by GreenGreyBlack
Summary: He knew Winter with its sad beauty will be his downfall.


_**The winter's curse**_

"Is it Madness? Is it?"

He stands there, his brother, eyeing him warily, bewilderedly.

Sure he doesn't know a thing, sure he is in the dark, he doesn't know his so called brother is a monster, he doesn't know his so called brother, is cold, so cold and broken and jagged like the snow, like the broken frosted glass he always disliked, Thor was never a winter lover, so unlike him.

His brother doesn't fight him off; his brother's doesn't utter a word, he doesn't know what to say.

"I will not fight you brother" Thor resolves.

He feels like crying, he feels so like crying,

His eyes so wet and burning from the unshed tears lying on the brinks of his lids.

Yet, he fights it off with relentlessness and might, not even Thor possesses, he fights it off because he won't end up curled upon himself in front of his almighty brother, acting like a weakling, not after all he had done, not after all he is about to do.

He doesn't want to cry, not even in front of Odin.

He doesn't want to cry in front of anyone because simply once you cry, once the first teardrop is ushered, trails follow behind and you can't stop.

You cry for everything and all things that you keep hiding in the furthest crevices of your soul, and sure he has a lot to cry about.

So he saves it for when he is alone, and he is often that way.

" I could have done it father, for you, for all of us"

He lets go of the staff.

The teardrops guide him through his fall.

The teardrops become his companion through his descend into the abyss.

* * *

When he is back in Asgard, after the epic war he proudly waged on Earth (he doesn't feel an ounce of remorse, he truly doesn't), he feels a knot tighten in his chest.

He doesn't want to be there, he doesn't want to be scrutinised by people no less monsters than himself, by people who hail the ones who kill the most and immortalise the best of slaughterers.

"People know nothing about what happened, only the close circle and they are trustworthy" Thor grimly mutters.

He doesn't feel more at ease, he still has to face his fa….the all father, he still has to see the queen, the warrior three and lady Sif.

The grand throne room was devoid from light save a dim ray that revealed the all father.

"You look so shabby" the All father says

"Well, I trust you have been informed that I had some business to attend to, all father, I didn't have much time on hands" he says it out bitterly and so flatly that he swears his always so composed king had flinched from the impact.

"Perhaps, we should discuss this later, Thor, escort your brother to his room"

* * *

The first face he sees when he opens his eyes after dare say the much needed and very deep lengthy slumber is his mother's.

The Queen is sitting beside his bed, her gentle hands stroking his hair, eyes scanning him for signs of physical damage, insight assessing how torn and marred his soul had become.

A pair of deep hollow green eyes stare back at her blue eyes, plush with emotions and warmth, hers searching for any signs of light, yet to no avail.

Something has died in her son's eyes, something that was burning ablaze before, the dire need for appreciation, the ambition he used to have, the mischief he so long became illustrious by, everything that made him Loki, her Loki.

Instead, there is some sort of relentless apathy, some sort of devoidance and masochism.

Her eyes plead with him to show something, anything that would tell her he will be fine.

He abates.

He can sense her upcoming meltdown; he tries his best to hang onto his solemn oath of not letting anyone in the house of Odin affect him, he hangs onto his apathy, hoping she'd surrender and leave him be, give up on him already.

He knows she won't.

He knows how strong his mother could be.

A battle of wills between him and his mother starts.

One he lost once he saw her cry.

He didn't say anything; he just reached out to wipe off her tears.

With that, he knew he has broken his vow,

With that, her eyes lightened up and her straight lips curved upwards into a smile of hope.

With that her gaze had shifted from one that showed despondency, to one that promised him she will never abandon him, then to one of strictness and reprimanding.

"You aren't off the hook, Loki, we will talk it later, I promise"

* * *

A few months ensuing his return, he has been ordered to join Lady Sif and the warrior three during training.

They were certainly most uncomfortable around him.

They didn't talk much; they didn't brag their fighting superiority above him as they used to do.

When they sparred, they kind of treated him with the motto 'handle with care', as though one tough blow would awake the horrendous beast they feel he is hiding inside.

They even ended the training session early.

There was this mutual silent treatment going on between them.

It was really comfortable for him.

* * *

The winter has set in.

Winter fascinated him since he was a child.

Its sombre sky, its biting nature.

The sight of the landscape stretched out, so white, so beautiful so untainted, heavenly like.

Winter never failed to disappoint him, he always felt the winter with its sad deceptive beauty will always curse him, cause him the deepest of wounds, the greatest of pains.

However, winter will forever sire him, like it or not.

Isn't that what beauty is all about?

His hands turn the deepest shade of blue as he manipulates the crispy chill in the air into a pigeon, so well made, so smooth and soothing, so beautiful that he enchants it so it will never fade once the cold is gone.

She sneaks up on him, the scene before her is a sight to behold, her eyes marvelling at the beauty of the artistic crystal he is holding in his hand, her eyes equally fascinated by the glorious maker of such a piece of art.

"It is so beautiful" Sif announces her presence.

He isn't startled a bit, he doesn't respond.

"Can I keep it?" she resumes.

"A pigeon wouldn't be a suitable item owned by a maiden of war"

He works his talents at producing another item; a sleek sharp pointed one that he presents to her.

"This dagger suits you better, my lady"

She got used to the formality in his tone; they had long ago resorted to formal, back when she swore eternal allegiance to his brother, back when she thought he was a coward, back when she turned him down.

"Why? Aren't you afraid I might use it on you?"

"Go on, if you like"

She is at loss of words, she doesn't know what to say, especially when he is shutting her out like this, so she does what she is good at, she strikes him hard and fierce urging him to fight, to respond back, like he used to do.

He falls to the ground, and then rises.

He laughs mirthlessly at her

"Always the same Sif, never leaves without a fight, too bad I am not giving you one"

She lunges back at him, urging him to fight her back, urging him to show interest.

He doesn't return the call.

He just keeps staring at her, he remembers a time when the mere shadow of her captivated him, when he would spend precious time staring and staring and staring at her.

He remembers a time when she would smile at him, a time when they'd brawl their heart out at training, ones before she started viewing him as an intruder, ones before she pushed him away just because he was different, just because he didn't fit the mould for the perfect asgardian.

Right now, she stares back at him, eyes dripping with unspoken rue and lament.

Those same eyes that held so much epiphany bottled up and restrained by her warrior stubborn nature, her inability for acceptance.

Those very same eyes that are so authentically beautiful, honest and true.

Sif was courage, loyalty and straight forwardness, everything he will never be.

Sif was a beauty that caused him so much agony, like the winter.

She denied him herself, she denied him the chance, yet still that pang thuds into his chest, one that he tries to muffle out, one that tells him, she had him sired to her forever.

Again, isn't that what beauty is all about to him.

She resolves he will never return her call, for once she lost a fight she was so determined not to lose, one she would have put in so much strength, one in front an opponent she doesn't exactly know whether he is worthy or not, one with an opponent that always left her confounded, perplexed.

She recomposes herself, warrior stance dissipating,

"The all father requests your presence."

"Then I should follow shortly, my lady"

* * *

He dreaded the moment when he would talk with the all father, he knew it was coming since he set foot in Asgard.

He was so grateful, it was delayed a bit, but now it was time for the inevitable.

He kneels before the all father, common courtesy.

"Rise"

He complies.

The all father eyes him with his one all knowing eye.

"Do you loathe us that much, Loki? Do you loathe yourself that much?"

"Isn't that what you all taught me to do?"

The truth in his words stung Odin that the so wise Odin couldn't respond.

Odin knew the day would come when he'd payback for all the unholy he had done, for all the unjust bloodshed he'd done, all those realms he'd destroyed.

Before Loki, He expected he might be assassinated, he expected his kingdom might burn to ashes, he expect Apocalypse to befall on him.

After Loki, He expected this, the day when both his sons would face off, the day his family would fall from grace, the day Loki would learn the truth, the day when his son would resent him, resent himself as well.

He expected this, the day he realised he harbours feelings for the adopted Jotun, the day he realised he mixed business with emotions.

He expected this when he realised how different Loki and Thor are.

He expected this when he saw how an outcast Loki had come to feel since all the attention and appreciation fell onto the perfect asgardian, his brother, who got away with plentiful whilst Loki would be mauled over mercilessly for the smallest of Faults, he foresaw this when he saw Thor unjustly glorified even over things of grave stupidity that he got through either by sheer luck or by Loki's thoughtfulness that he never got appreciated for, on the contrary, sometimes he got ridiculed for.

He expected this when he realised the amount of hatred that was being implanted within Loki's mind against his own race.

Yet, he ignored it, he was so stupid, so absorbed and deluded in his opinion of himself, of how he will handle it, he never doubted that when the time comes, he will be able to conjure it all the way he wants, that he will be able to contain Loki.

Yet, Loki proved him wrong, Loki was unreadable and unexpectable.

And here he stands, powerless, unable to take any action, against the son he loves, unable to eliminate him, unable to condemn him, unable to help, so he resorts to what useless do, he compromises and hopes the problems would solve themselves out with that one magical item called Time.

"We both hold a lot on our accords, Loki"

"I may demand, what are you going to do with me, all father?" he says almost defyingly.

"I can't do anything with you"

"So, you will leave just it like that"

"Precisely"

"Do you think that would solve it all father?

The last word kept mocking at Odin, for he couldn't interpret what he meant, he couldn't figure out whether it was 'all-father' or 'all, father'.

"Let's hope it will do as for the meantime"

* * *

The winter was dying, there was no longer frost, only rain falling from the stirring sky.

Loki had reign over the frost, yet less of such as of rain.

Water flowing from the sky couldn't be controlled or manipulated, it was a wild, raw, spontaneous, blasting power, how long you try to hold it back with magic, eventually, it comes crashing down with force greater than prior, just like emotions.

He could never reign emotions as well.

When he was but a naïve child, he used to think that sky rains happiness and bliss on the grand palace of Asgard, Happiness that goes all to Thor, Sif and the warrior three.

"You remember what mother used to tell us about rain?" the unmistakable hoarse voice of Thor pierces the silence.

"That if you pray during the rain, the sky would land you happiness and bliss?" he asks incredulously

"Yes"

If only Thor knew how much he prayed for a small portion to reach him.

"Talk to me, brother" Thor pleads

"Well, since when have you been a good listener?"

"Since now, I am trying"

Thor takes it upon himself, what happened to his brother.

Loki understands Thor blames himself for lack of consideration, lack of intimacy he used to treat him with.

Loki understands Thor has nothing on him, regarding what happened to him.

Thor didn't demand attention to himself, Thor never told them to idolise him, Thor never knew what their father had done and by no means had any hand to do with it.

It was all him, he was the one to blame.

He was the one who didn't fit Asgard's raving standards.

He was the Jotun.

He was the traitor, not Thor.

"Brother, we are trying here, don't shut us all out" his genial aura kicking in, the one that made him the favourite among their friends and bested Loki's own conservative polite one.

"I know Thor, just give it some time"

"You know of all the enchanting traits that I am famed for, patience isn't the strongest"

"Of course, It subsided; making place for ego" Loki mocked.

Some how, the sarcastic hue in his words relieved Thor, who broke out in a loud, full, ringing Laughter.

"We are going to be fine, Loki" he assured

"We are going to be fine, Thor" he emptily replied.

Thor, of all, had the greatest Faith in him.

Too bad his faith might be misplaced.

* * *

Things rolled smooth around the palace, for several months.

For a moment, you could think, everything had returned back to normal.

For a moment, you could imagine everything was fine.

For a moment you could feel the fracture mending, the wound weaving and closing upon itself.

Except when the tidings turned, except when it was Loki, who called for the wake of devastation.

Asgard was hard to subdue, yet not with the conjoint forces of Thanos and the elves, not when the traitor was Loki, who handed them the keys to the kingdom.

Treachery was profoundly engrained into him.

He watched as Panic took over Asgard, he watched with gloat and wallow.

They knew there was a traitor; they knew exactly who it was.

It was Thor who broke into boundless wrath.

"What did you tell them, Loki?" Thor barged in on him and held him by the front of his ropes.

"Everything they needed to know, entrances, number of troops, everything" he composedly replied.

"Guards, seize him" he spitefully shouted "Don't ever let him out, unless it is my command" Thor ordered as they imprisoned him into the magically locked cell.

* * *

He could hear Thor's voice echoing through "Fight for yourselves, fight for your belongings, fight for everything you hold dear, fight for the glorious Asgard"

he could hear the clarion calls.

He could hear the ramblings, as the army marched outside Asgard.

* * *

His magic has grown stronger, he could easily break free from his prison, and he could easily fool and evade most of the guards.

The first place he heads to, is his parent's chamber.

He places one powerful protection incantation on their chamber

He then heads on to Heimdall.

"Loki, the traitor" he growls sword pointed towards his throat

"What ever you think, I want your help with this"

* * *

He follows through, to the battlefield.

The battle was gore, rough.

He spots Thor and the warriors in the front line.

He rushes over to his brother, as fast as could be.

Thor was Livid to see him, least to be told.

"You need to order the troops to fall back, Thor" he shouts over the raging battle

"Never, Traitor"

"You are losing, you will eventually do, trust me, do as I tell you for once"

"You aren't worthy of my trust"

"You have nothing to lose, you can take your chances and do as I say"

Something in the tone of Loki made him yield, somehow.

"Fall back" his voice along with Mjolnir resonated.

"This is madness" shouted Sif

"No, it is not" Loki inaudibly replied

The troops marched towards the sieges of Asgard.

Heimdall was watching, as soon as most troops were within safe range, he activated the Tesseract.

* * *

The elves were on Thor's Trail, their own personal fight grinding.

Once he took them down, he could feel a startling blow to his back, once he turned around he saw it was Thanos.

The terrifying being managed to knock Thor down by surprise.

He managed to disarm Thor of Mjolnir.

As Thanos prepared for the final blow, a roundup of Lokis had surrounded him.

It was then that Corporeal Loki managed to embed the frosted edge into him.

It was then that the Other plunged his weapon into Loki's back.

* * *

It was all hazy.

Save for, his brother's grip tightening on him, carrying him to the safe Haven behind the city's walls.

Save for, the powerful light of the activated Tesseract piercing through Asgard's sky.

Save for, the sound of cries by those reaped by the Tesseract.

* * *

Thor rushes him to the palace infirmary.

He stays by his side.

"I did it for you, Thor" he flutters "for the future king who the bards will write odes and odes of praise, to his merits, to how he won them the greatest battle of all time, the greatest battle in all the nine realms, to how he used the remaining energy of the Tesseract to rebuild the Bifrost and to how Asgard managed to excel during his ruling era"

"Save your breath, brother"

He knew he was slipping, he knew he was hovering.

He could feel something moist and hot falling unto him, something he identified as Thor's tears.

He could feel the muffled cries of Sif and Frigga.

He could see his father, for the first time so old and bent as he looked over to him, his failing son.

"you shall not mourn me, you shall not mourn the stolen relic, the monster who parents tell their children of at night"

"No, but I shall mourn my son" it was the gravy weight of sorrow in his voice that caused Loki's eyes to close eternally.

* * *

Winter was blooming.

The Lady Sif approaches the tomb of the long deceased Prince Loki of Asgard.

Each year, she leaves a small sculpture of ice.

This year, she left two, a blunt dagger and a broken winged pigeon.

* * *

Winter was withering.

The greyed king Thor approaches the tomb of the long deceased Prince Loki of Asgard, the enigma, the paradox, the meaning of tragedy, the epitome of contradiction.

"we mourned you, brother, we all did"

He stays for a couple of seconds before glancing over to the two elegant marble tombstones of his parents and paying respects.

"I shall join you all, soon enough" he said whilst walking away.


End file.
